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 Paradise Lost

(English lyric and epic poet, 1608-1674)

Mammon led them on— Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell From Heaven; for even in Heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed In vision beatific. By him first Men also, and by his suggestion taught, Ransacked the centre, and with impious hands Rifled the bowels of their mother earth For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew Opened into the hill a spacious wound, And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire That riches grow in Hell; that soil may best Deserve the precious bane.

Miss Kilmansegg: Her Moral

(See pages 59, 171)

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold, Molten, graven, hammer'd, and roll'd; Heavy to get, and light to hold;